


Never Better at Christmas

by anb123



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2774321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anb123/pseuds/anb123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“More often than not, I wish I was never in One Direction in the first place," Harry said easily. Niall seemed to choke on his beer and then cleared his throat. An awkward silence fell over the table.</p><p>"You’re a disgrace," Niall lashed out. "I knew you’d changed. But for some reason, I’d convinced myself you’d hit a rough patch and then got better. That you were okay and we'd just ended things on the wrong foot. Bad exes or whatever we are…<em>were</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p> </p><p>A 1D future fic where the boys find themselves older and all on different paths. Louis is domestic. Liam and Zayn are entrepreneurs. Niall's a media darling, and Harry's a bit of a jerk, who gets a jarring reminder of who and what really matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Better at Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alteringegoism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringegoism/gifts).



> Please excuse any typos or POV issues. This was written in 1st person and had to be changed to 3rd person per guidelines. My beta sort of abandoned me, so my eyes probably failed me more than once in the proofreading and editing process! Hope you enjoy, alteringegoism (& everyone else who reads this)!

It’d been five years since One Direction’s last album and world tour. Harry was 22 then. Felt like he was the king of the universe, with a successful solo career ahead of him. Or maybe a film career. Television? Maybe he’d be a producer instead. Or a songwriter. It didn’t really matter to him. He knew there was literally a world of opportunity waiting. People were excited to see what he would do next. He was still young. Still fresh. From pretty much the first month of the band, it’d been assumed that he’d be the one to have the lasting career. The Justin Timberlake of the group. The Beyonce. 

 

 

Somewhere things went wrong. 

 

 

It’d been three years since Harry last saw Niall. Things between them were easy, until they weren’t. They were lads until the lines started blurring and they didn’t know what to call it. Increasingly frequent kisses and cuddles and the not so occasional tryst had them both confused, so they just ignored it and let whatever was happening, happen.

 

 

Then they reached a fork. They were pulled in a million different directions. The outcome of that, was going their own separate ways. It was supposed to be amicable. They’d just go back to being friends, former colleagues. That never _really_ happens though, does it? There were rows. Calls and texts became fewer. Things were said in anger. Outside people were used for spite. It all fell apart. The last thing Harry said Niall was along the lines of: Niall’d be _nothing_ without him or the band, and that Harry couldn’t have Niall dragging him down. That was shortly after Harry had accepted his first movie role. He was born for this. he’d said. The perfect pop star. 

 

 

Three years.

 

 

Harry had kept track of Niall of course. It’s not as if Niall immediately fell off public radar, never to be heard from again. Not at all. The opposite, actually occurred. Niall thrived. He prospered. He stayed in London, writing songs and producing tracks. He was given a radio show on Capital FM, _Niall at Noontime_. It was so popular that he was promoted to peak hours and currently handled their morning show. He brought Capital FM up and over BBC Radio 1 in the ratings. He and Grimmy were always in a super friendly competition, the R1 _Breakfast Show_ versus _Irish Coffee_. They were really good lads these days. Closer than Grimmy and Harry, honestly. 

 

 

Apart from music production and radio, it was recently rumored that Niall would be joining the _X Factor_ judges panel. Harry followed the story closely. People were proper excited for it-- the whole idea of coming full circle and that. Niall would be perfect at it, Harry knew. He’d be honest, but supportive. His booming laugh would counteract Simon’s misery. Harry would watch every week, without fail.

 

 

Niall was doing really well for himself. Harry wasn’t certain about his personal life. Niall’d never been public with who he was dating, not even while they were in the band. _Harry_ hadalways known back then because he was always there, and eventually he sort of _was_ that person that Niall was seeing. But after being _estranged_ \-- if that’s even the word for it-- Harry didn’t know. The papers were never accurate. Of course, there were people he could ask. Grimmy would know. Harry was sure Liam or Louis would know. Zayn definitely. But asking felt like a violation. It would be an admission of something Harry wasn’t ready to admit. He’d heard things in passing, but he was never sure. He knew Niall hadn’t settled down. He was Niall Horan. Everyone wanted a piece. He had his pick.

 

 

As far as the rest of One Direction was concerned, everyone else _had_ settled down. Louis and Eleanor got married, surprising absolutely no one. Though, Harry figured if _he_ had someone who was there from the beginning, dealt with all the shit that came along with dating a famous boy bander (including being called a beard for his alleged relationship with another lad) and never strayed, he’d probably lock it down as well.

 

 

They had twins, which was clearly a genetic thing in Louis’ family, a boy called Peter and a girl called Georgina. Or Petey and Georgie. They lived outside Doncaster. Eleanor was some sort of therapist, and Louis ran the press office for the football club. They were happy and mostly totally out of the limelight.

 

 

Liam and Sophia got married as well, which also didn’t surprise me. Harry’d always quite liked her. At first he thought she was a bit dodgy, seemed a bit fame hungry, but she ended up being all right. She never took shit from anyone, _especially_ Liam. That’s why Harry also wasn’t completely surprised when it came out that they were getting separated. They hadn’t divorced yet though. Liam’s parents had been married forever and everyone knew that in a world riddled with divorce, it was important to him that his relationship last as well. Sophia was trying to be a designer, last Harry had heard, a handbag line or shoes or something. Liam owned a string of posh nightclubs in London, Ibiza, Las Vegas, Miami and New York City called _Lussuria_. There were always pictures of Niall leaving the one in London.

 

 

Zayn was dating Lottie Malone, the Scottish-born pop star. His fairytale romance with Perrie Edwards had fizzled and he moved on in record time with a string of women. The papers never failed to point out that Lottie has the same initials as Little Mix, which Harry was sure vexed Zayn to no end. Zayn had done a collaboration record with Naughty Boy shortly after 1D ended, but couldn’t really back up a solo career due to a lack of stage presence and overall dislike of being the center of attention. He teamed up with Calvin Klein and endured a brief stint as an underwear model, the pretty boy that he is. The rest of the lads had all taken the piss for it, but he claimed it was cool, just like the way David Beckham had done it. Zayn was still fiercely private and easily overwhelmed. His relationship with Lottie was pretty active in the media, but he managed to stay above it all, only getting photographed on his terms, when he didn’t mind; he still had the ability to disappear like no one else could. On the business side, Zayn bought a tattoo parlor in Shoreditch. It became the cool place for celebrities to get inked in London, like _Shamrock Social Club_ in LA or _Bang Bang_ in New York. Harry had gone to the opening event, but didn’t get anything done. 

 

 

Now they were all being thrown back together. Harry had seen Louis on and off. He’d seen Liam a few times, mostly at events. He’d bumped into Zayn at a couple music things where Lottie was performing or being honored. Last time the entire group had been together though, was Liam’s wedding. They were meant to reunite again at Petey and Georgie’s christening, but Zayn never showed up and Niall left before Harry arrived. 

 

 

At least those had been moments of celebration. This was a bit awkward. Apparently Syco Entertainment and Modest Management were being taken down for embezzling funds from their artists. One Direction was owed about £3 million each and they were set to do the meetings together because the group, while made of five individuals, was one entity for legal purposes. So here they were, on Christmas Eve, Louis’ 30th birthday, meeting to cross the t’s and dot the i’s, just in time for Christmas. 

 

 

Harry wanted to be absolutely anywhere else.

 

 

**

 

 

Harry was second to arrive to the meeting. Liam was already there, looking every bit the nightclub owner. He wore a black suit with a black button down shirt. The top three or four buttons were left open, like Harry used to when he thought he was _indie_. Liam’s shoes were alligator skin loafers and his hair was parted to the side. He was tanned, legs crossed, wearing sunglasses indoors, and his jaw line had decent stubble. He looked like a dickhead, but he was still Liam.

 

 

“Harry fucking Styles,” Liam said, jumping to his feet to greet Harry. He pulled the younger man in for a hug and a clap on the back. “How the hell are you, mate? Surprised you could be arsed to be in the same room with us.” 

 

 

Harry shrugged noncommittally. “I’m good, Liam,” he shook his hand once and they both sat down at the massive table. “You’re looking well.”

 

 

Liam nodded. “Can’t fully complain. Business is going well, but things are still sort of shit with Soph,” he shrugged. “Figuring it all out best I can.” There was an awkward beat of silence as Harry struggled to address Liam’s failing marriage. “Jesus, how long has it been since I’ve seen you, Harry? Been a while now.”

 

 

Harry nodded. 

 

 

“Been busy. Lottie Malone’s release party, I think,” he mused. That was about six months prior. Liam, Zayn, and Harry had all been there. 

 

 

Liam nodded. “Sounds about right,” he smiled. “That git owes me,” he grinned, referring to Zayn. “Lottie got proper wrecked that night. Got sick on a speaker that cost a couple thousand quid.” He grinned again. “I think _Lussuria London_ is my favourite. Have you been back to one in LA since the opening?” 

 

 

Harry shook his head. “LA club scene isn’t really my thing,” he said curtly. Liam stared at him with a forced smile and Harry sighed, hating that he felt compelled to continue the small talk. “Opening any more?” 

 

 

It was a bit weird to be sat with Liam Payne, chatting business that had nothing to do with music. That was Harry’s least favourite part about seeing these boys. It reminded him of how grown up they were now. One Direction felt like a different life. And in that life, Harry’d had it all. Everything. Including Niall.

 

 

“Dubai,” Liam beamed, pleased to keep talking. “Can’t wait. Opening New Years. You should come, mate. Only about a week away, if you don’t have plans.” Harry shrugged. He didn’t have plans. But he was hardly about to fly to Dubai. Liam laughed. “Niall made the same face. You two ever patch things up?” He asked curiously.

 

 

Harry was about to answer, and by answer, he was going end the conversation, when the door flew open. “Well. Would you look at these two fuckers.”

 

 

Liam and Harry both turned to see Louis stride though the door like he owned the place. He wore a Doncaster Rovers top, denim shorts and trainers, as if it weren’t the middle of winter.

 

 

“Well if it isn’t the _actual_ Daddy Direction,” Liam quipped. “And a bloody 30 year old on top of that. Practically middle aged!” They both stood up and greeted Louis with hugs and handshakes. 

 

 

“How’ve you sods been?” Louis asked, taking a seat. “A club mogul and a rockstar. Lucky I’m not easily hurt or I might feel a bit unsuccessful and down on me luck.” 

 

 

Harry smirked. “Good thing you’re about to get £3 million then.” 

 

 

“Righto, Styles,” he cheered. “Bit fucked up, to be fair. Robbing teenagers of their wages. Not like we were suffering, but still. Principle and that.” 

 

 

A silence fell over the room, because it was true. People they’d entrusted with their careers had stolen from them. It was more than a bit troubling. As soon as Harry found out, he immediately looked into his current business manager, and hired a private accountant for a few weeks to audit his label and management circle. 

 

 

Liam shrugged. “All being sorted now. How’ve you been then? How’re the little ones?”

 

 

Louis frowned. “Devils,” he quipped, but then broke into a grin. “But they’re lovely. Going to turn two in a few months. El’s nervous for the chaos that’ll bring, but it’ll be fine.” Louis shrugged. “The four of us are staying in Kensington till this is all settled. Niall offered us to stay round his, but we didn’t want to burden the lad with two babies… especially when he has to wake up at the crack of dawn everyday.” 

 

 

Harry stayed quiet while Liam nodded and grinned. “He’s brilliant! You should listen online some time. Who knew Niall would be so good at radio?” Louis laughed. “Do you think he’s signing on to _X Factor_ for real?” 

 

 

Louis shrugged. Harry remained silent. He didn’t want to talk about Niall. “Dunno. Wouldn’t be surprised. Man’s like a more talented UK Ryan Seacrest. Shocked he doesn’t have his own programme yet. Like a chat show.”

 

 

“Who, me? Working on it,” Zayn said, walking into the room. They stood up again and to be honest, Harry was a little tired of exchanging greetings. Should’ve arrived ‘fashionably late.’ “Lads,” Zayn nodded. “It’s been a mo.” 

 

 

Zayn had barely gotten seated when the door opened again and Harry’s heart stopped. There was only one member left. And on cue, Niall poked his head in. Upon realising he was in the right place, he broke into a wide grin and strutted into the room confidently.

 

 

“Who would’ve thought? One Direction in one room again,” he laughed boisterously and Harry’s heart flipped. “An old father working for a footie club. Tattoo entrepreneur. A man who turned partying into a paycheck….” His eyes fell on me. “And a rockstar. Bloody Christmas miracle, this is.”

 

 

“Niall!” Liam jumped up and ran to him instantly. “Miss you, you miserable git. Gotten too big for us little people then?” 

 

 

Niall laughed and pushed him off. “Please, Payno. I’m singlehandedly keeping _Lusurria_ _London_ in business. In there round three times a month or summat.”

 

 

“Trust me, I know,” Liam responded with a laugh. “Heard you shagged Pippa Roy in the toilets once.”

 

 

Niall’s cheeks flushed and he smiled sheepishly, purposely avoiding Harry’s gaze, or so it seemed. Harry’s mind went into overdrive. Pippa Roy? She was an actress on _Coronation Street_. Niall was shagging _her_? He’d never read anything about it. He absolutely would’ve noticed. Right then Harry made the decision to never watch _Corrie_ again.

 

 

“Get in, Niall!” Louis whistled and Niall turned a deeper shade of red and shook his head.

 

 

“She’s a nice girl,” he shrugged. “We were off our faces and got a bit carried away. Miracle no one found out.”

 

 

“Like hell no one found out,” Liam laughed. “Maybe your lovely little listeners didn’t, but I certainly did!”

 

Niall shrugged. “Unimportant now. How’ve you lot been? I know I’m keeping your place open Payno,” he smirked. “What about your shop Zayn? Doing good?”

 

 

Zayn nodded with a lazy smile. “Would be better if you came and got one,” he cheeked. “Niall Horan’s first tattoo being done at _The Darby_ would be mad for business.”

 

 

Niall snorted. “Probably going to pass on that one, mate. I’ll come round though if you need someone to hold your hand during your next one,” he shrugged with a smirk. “And fatherhood treating you well then, Tommo? Shame the Rovers still can’t win for shit. I imagine that can’t be too good on your pay.”

 

 

“Funny, Ireland. Least I’m settled, yeah? Not getting off in toilets anymore,” Louis quipped.

 

 

Niall shrugged again. “Least I’m still getting off,” he jeered and everyone laughed at Louis. “Not even getting some birthday sex, cos you’re stuck here with us!” Louis rolled his eyes but smiled fondly at Niall. Harry folded his arms and Niall’s gaze turned to him. “Harry,” he nodded. “How’s the music then? New single coming soon?”

 

 

“Next year,” he replied briefly. “Probably summer.” He shrugged.

 

 

Niall nodded. “Sure it’ll be great, mate,” he said politely and Harry shuddered at the formality. “Maybe you can come by the station one morning to promote it. I’m sure Capital would love to world premiere it or something, if you don’t already have a guarantee out to Z100 or KIIS FM or some other station in the States.”

 

 

Harry tried my best not to grimace. Niall was talking logistics with him. “Could do,” he replied. “I’ll see what I can get sorted, although I think America responds to my talents a bit better than the UK.” A weird silence fell over the room as Niall stared at Harry, unashamed. Harry coughed into his fist to stifle his awkwardness. “So who are we supposed to be meeting with anyway?” He changed the subject.

 

 

As if on cue, the door opened once again and a man in a suit entered. He sat at the table and introduced himself as Thomas Timson. He was a no nonsense old man who looked like he’d been practicing law since the bloody Magna Carta itself was drafted. He explained to the group what was going on and started talking through possible settlements. Harry took the time to tune out and train his gaze towards Niall.

 

 

Niall was even better looking than Harry had remembered him. His hair was dark, even darker than Harry’s. It was the first time he’d ever seen it that way in person. Of course Harry remembered when Niall had debuted the new look… or _old_ look, if you wanted to be particular. There was a big write up on it in _The Sun_ and a decent page in _GQ_. He looked well fit and if Harry were to be honest, he spent more time than he’d like to admit looking at the online photo gallery. Niall had been leaving a football match when he got photographed, and he’d looked phenomenal.

 

 

Seeing this new Niall up close was almost too much. Harry could _feel_ his presence. The new brunet’s eyes were striking, offset by the dark hair. Even when Harry tried to concentrate on something else, he was drawn back to Niall. Niall who hadn’t looked at him once since the barrister had walked in the room. Niall who wasn’t bothered by Harry being so near. His brows were furrowed slightly as he did his best to follow along with what Mr. Timson was saying. He wasn’t dribbling over Harry like so many others did. He didn’t care.

 

 

He didn’t care anymore. 

 

 

Well, Harry didn’t care either. He could be completely unaffected as well. He hadn’t expected Niall to be openly gawking at him with desire or pout in misery or scowl in jealousy, but he’d expected _something_. Anything other than him just treating Harry like some fucking former acquaintance to trade niceties with.

 

 

The meeting was over before Harry realised, with plans to reconvene in a few days. The five young men shuffled out the door and stood awkwardly outside the lift, trying to sort their next move. Or maybe Harry was just the awkward one, because everyone else seemed pleased to be together again, while he was growing increasingly more anxious.

 

 

“Where are you off to now, lads? Anyone fancy a pint?” Niall posed the question to the group. “Birthday celebrations Lou?” 

 

 

Harry’s eyes roamed the four faces around him, gauging their interest. “What’s the time?” Louis asked, glancing at his watch. “Minutes to 6? Already?” He frowned. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” he lamented. “Been gone almost three hours. It’ll be time to feed the devils soon and that’s a two man job. El will kill me if I miss out _and_ come home smelling of Stella.” 

 

Liam imitated the cracking of a whip and they all laughed while Louis rolled his eyes and pushed the button to the lift again. “Just joking, Tommo, I actually have dinner with my parents tonight. Christmas Eve and that,” he smiled, and then frowned. “I’ll need some time to convince Sophia to come with me.” He chewed his lip and they were all quiet for an awkward moment. 

 

 

“Z?” Niall asked, moving the conversation along. He was never good with tension.

 

“Can’t. Have to meet Lottie for dinner. She wants to talk about something important, so either I’m about to be chucked for Christmas, or we’re moving in together,” Zayn shrugged, seemingly not fussed either way. “We have another meeting in a couple days though, yeah? We can get food before. Coat me stomach. Get our money. Then celebrate by getting absolutely pissed.”

 

 

Liam and Louis both made comments of agreement, assuring they too could get away from their responsibilities by that time for a reunion evening.

 

 

Harry’s stomach flipped and he wasn’t sure if it was out of excitement or dread. Niall nodded. “Harry? You off then as well?” His throat went dry. 

 

 

“I’ve got nothing going on here. Probably head back to the hotel. Drive up to my mum’s in the morning.” He shrugged and hoped he didn’t come off as pathetic.

 

 

“You’re staying in a hotel?” Niall asked, almost sadly. Zayn was biting his lip and Liam frowned. Louis seemed put off. London used to be Harry’s home. Now he couldn’t even ask one of these boys to let him shack up for a week. It wasn’t like he was Louis with a wife and two kids. He was just a nomad there. Passing through. A stranger in his former homestead. Harry nodded at Niall and Niall sighed, looking conflicted. “Fancy grabbing dinner?” He gestured to the other three. “My family’s in town, so I’m not in a rush to catch a flight to Dublin or anything.”

 

 

Harry’s heart stopped and he felt his face flush as he shrugged his assent. 

 

 

The lift arrived and when the doors opened, who but bloody Little Mix stepped off. Or what used to be Little Mix. They’d been through some shit. Their career more or less mimicked that of Girls Aloud, and Perrie Edwards was the new Cheryl Cole. Zayn was her Ashley Cole and no one really heard much from Leigh-Anne, Jesy, and Jade after that. Harry quickly assumed Syco and Modest owed them money as well. 

 

 

To say it was awkward was a bit of an understatement. The two former groups stared at each other for a moment before Niall (of course) broke the silence. “It’s fucking Little Mix. How are ya girls? All right? Happy Christmas.” That put everyone in motion for a minute: hugs and kisses exchanged and that.

 

 

“You lot owed money as well, then?” Liam asked.

 

 

Leigh-Anne nodded. “Can you believe it? Proper shit.”

 

 

“Nice Christmas present though, innit?” Perrie asked.

 

 

Zayn nodded, staring at Perrie. “All right Pez?” He murmured quietly. She nodded with a blush and Harry rolled his eyes. Zayn was too pretty for his own good and needed to leave that poor girl alone.

 

 

Harry looked around to see if anyone else had noticed, but Liam and Louis were talking quietly with Jesy, Jade, and Leigh-Anne. Niall caught his eye though. He cocked his head towards Perrie and Zayn, gnawing on his lip and doing his best to not laugh. Harry cracked a smile at that. Niall always knew. 

 

 

“Shouldn’t hold up the lift. Best be going. Good luck ladies,” He nodded and made his way inside, having hit his small talk capacity for a lifetime. The rest of the boys followed and Liam pushed the button for the first floor. “Didn’t realise you’d be coming, Zayn. Thought you were meant to continue eye fucking Perrie.”

 

 

Niall laughed again and Liam and Louis joined in. Zayn told them all to fuck off and Harry felt a flash of the old days.

 

 

Once they reached the lobby of the building, they were greeted with a hoard of photographers outside. Harry swore to myself and groaned a bit. “Sorry. Don’t know how they found out I was here. Everyone going to be all right? Think of it like old times.” He shrugged and smiled sheepishly in a half apology for the chaos outside.

 

 

Niall barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Louis and Liam exchanged a glance, and Zayn just looked distracted. Harry decided to lead the group outside. It was the least he could do, going first, since he’d caused the mess.

 

 

The volume hit them all at once.

 

 

“Niall!”

 

 

Harry’s step faltered.

 

 

“Niall, look here!”

 

 

Harry’s head snapped towards the Irishman.

 

 

“Niall, are you doing X Factor?”

 

 

They weren’t here for Harry. They were here for Niall. And suddenly, Harry felt foolish and he ducked his head.

 

 

“Hey, Niall! Is One Direction getting back together?”

 

 

“Niall! Are you dating Natalie Gaines?”

 

 

Harry’s head flew back up at that. Natalie Gaines? Who the fuck was _she_? Pippa Roy. Natalie Gaines. Was Niall a slag? And how many more were there?

 

 

Harry turned around to look at Niall, who just kept his head down and moved forward. “Just trying to catch up with the lads in peace,” he said to the crowd. “Breathing room please, fellas.”

 

 

The men mumbled and didn’t stop taking photos, but the yelling died down and they stepped back fractionally. Lou popped into a cab with a quick shout of departure. A car pulled up for Liam. Zayn had a motorbike parked on the curb. Harry didn’t know where he and Niall were meant to be going or how to get there, so he let Niall take the lead and quietly hopped into his new and improved Range Rover. They sped off immediately.

 

 

**

 

 

_The Auld Shillelagh_ was an Irish pub about half an hour away from the law office they’d come from. Niall seemed set on the place though, so Harry hadn’t said anything in the car en route. It wasn’t until they were nestled inside that he realised why they’d come there.

 

 

This was Niall’s comfort zone. He was home here. A regular. All the barmen were Irish. The patrons were Irish. Everything was bloody Irish. Harry felt like an outsider. 

 

 

The pair was seated at a table in the back, Niall with a Stella that he’d gotten as soon as he walked in from a barmaid called Siobhan. Harry had to order a gin and ginger himself and Niall insisted on two orders of Shepherd’s Pie since Harry had been away from England for ages. It was that of fish and chips, but Harry was watching his fried food intake. Niall rolled his eyes at that and Harry cleared his throat once he was settled. “So. Does that happen to you a lot, then? The photographers.”

 

 

Harry watched as Niall rolled his shoulders back, a sign of stress. “Sometimes,” he started. “Usually outside places like _Lusurria_ and that.” He shrugged. “Or at footie matches sometimes.” He took a long drink and Harry briefly thought back to the pictures he’d ogled of Niall leaving Emirates Stadium.“That’s why I come places like this. No one is fucked about me at _The Auld_.” He grinned.

 

 

Harry stared at him. He didn’t know when it happened, but Niall became proper famous on his own. He was doing big things and he didn’t need the One Direction brand name to propel him anymore. Harry idly wished he could say the same for himself, but often in Los Angeles people associated him with either the group or his famous exes, the words ‘former boy bander’ often preceding his name in the papers.

 

 

“How’ve you been then? Life in Los Angeles good to ya?”

 

 

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine. Made a few career mistakes, but I think I’m back on track now.” 

 

 

He smirked. “Wasn’t gonna mention it, but yeah, I definitely saw that _Breakfast Club_ remake. What were you thinking, mate?” He laughed and Harry rolled his eyes with a slight flush to his cheeks.

 

 

“Sod off. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Always thought of myself as a bit of a brain.” I shrugged with another sip and a half smile.

 

“Well you’re definitely not a jock,” Niall snorted and Harry frowned. “Or a criminal for that matter. Probably could’ve been the princess. Wouldn’t have ruled out the freak either.” Niall laughed and Harry couldn’t stop looking at him. They fell into a comfortable silence until someone approached their table and pulled out the chair next to Niall with a screech.

 

 

Niall looked up at the interruption and Harry watched the smile grow on his face. “Pippa, _hey_ ,” he breathed out, standing up and pulling Pippa Roy into a hug. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and sat back down.

 

 

“Hiya,” she grinned. “Happy Christmas! Sorry I’m late.”

 

 

Late. As in, she was invited. Niall invited her. This was never meant to be just Harry and Niall. Harry fought the sudden urge to leave. 

 

 

“Pip, did you ever meet Harry Styles?” Niall asked her.

 

 

She shook her head. “Don’t think so.” She extended her hand to him. “I’m Philippa. Pippa.” Harry shook her hand and gave her a polite smile and nod, but didn’t bother introducing himself. If she knew Niall, she knew One Direction, and if she knew One Direction, she knew Harry Styles. He didn’t have time for her doe-eyed act.

 

 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Siobhan and grab a drink. Do you need another?” She asked Niall. He finished off his Stella in response and nodded with a thanks. She didn’t bother asking Harry and headed off to the bar. Bitch.

 

 

“Are you two an item then?” He couldn’t help but ask.

 

 

Niall furrowed his brows and watched him closely. “Harry. Please.” Harry just shrugged. “We’re good friends.” He nodded and played with the condensation on his glass.

 

 

Pippa came back and passed Niall his beer. She had a glass of white wine for herself. “So how’d it go today then? Everything settled?”

 

 

Harry snorted. “Not even close,” he said. “It’s going to be a bit before this is figured out.” 

 

 

Niall nodded in agreement. “Such a shame,” Pippa frowned. “But at least you all got to see each other again. That must’ve been nice, yeah? I can’t imagine what you were all like back in the glory days. Especially you two, you were the single ones most often weren’t ya?” She winked conspiratorially and Harry sort of wanted to knock over her wine glass. “Go on then. Tell me the stories. I imagine there was loads of pulling going on on the road.” She grinned and Harry saw Niall tense a bit. She had no idea.

 

 

“We kept to ourselves, mostly,” Harry said, looking directly at Niall. “Most nights when Niall got pissed he ended up crawling into my bed.”

 

 

Niall stared at Harry, and Pippa giggled. “Not surprised. What a laugh that must’ve been.” Harry smirked. “You live in LA full time now, yeah?” She asked me.

 

 

Harry nodded. “But I’ve been missing London to be honest. Good to be back. Might stay for a bit. Still have a house here.” I shrugged and Niall looked uncomfortable.

 

 

“Had you two kept in close touch?” She asked. “Did you know how popular your Niley had become over here?” Harry’s eyes widened at _Niley_. He gave him a look, but Niall just shot him a warning glance, so I choked down my laughter and disgust.

 

 

“Fell out a bit.” Harry shrugged. “But I’ve always kept tabs on young Nialler- sorry- _Niley_ ,” he corrected and Niall gripped his bottle tightly and took a long sip. 

 

 

Pippa grinned. “Well you’re back together now. Reliving the One Direction glory days all over again.” She brightened. “Did you lot get papped together, then? I bet the press would run mad. One Direction reunion!” She giggled to herself.

 

 

Harry snorted. “Not bloody likely,” he said easily and truthfully. “Past the boy band bit now. Focused on my own stuff. Took ages to get to this point and that’s probably because of all the ‘1D’ shit following me around.” He shrugged. “More often than not, I wish I was never _in_ One Direction in the first place.” Niall seemed to choke on his beer and then cleared his throat. An awkward silence fell upon the table. Harry coughed. “I’m gonna run to the toilets,” he muttered, standing and pushing in my chair. Pippa pointed vaguely to the back of the pub, where Harry assumed the washroom was located and he headed off that direction.

 

 

Harry was stood over the urinal when Niall entered, the door pushed open and slammed against the wall before bouncing closed. “What the fuck Harry?” He exploded instantly, locking the door behind him.  

 

 

Harry shrugged. “She’s cute,” he said. “Thought you’d want some alone time.” He winked and Niall blanched. 

 

 

“What the fuck _happened_ to you, mate?” He asked softly. “Wish you were never in One Direction? Really? You’ve turned into a right cunt.” Harry’s eyes widened. Even in our lowest points, Niall had never directed words like that at him. Not seriously anyway. He looked almost _painfully_ disappointed.  

 

 

“You wouldn’t have _any_ of this without that band,” he continued. “Maybe you’d be successful. Muck horse shite and sell pastries until uni. Trudged along through some law degree and _maybe_ ended up in the legal department of some record label if you were still into music. Maybe married. Maybe a couple of kids.” His chest heaved as if he’d just completed a brisk jog. “ _Or_ Harry, maybe you’d be a sorry, miserable git. Wondering what could’ve been if you went to that X Factor audition. Or got put into that super successful boy band instead of sent home. You’re a disgrace. I knew you’d changed. But for some reason, I’d convinced myself you’d hit a rough patch and then changed for the better. That you were okay and we just ended things on the wrong foot. Bad exes or whatever we are… _were._ ”

 

 

Harry stared at Niall in slight shock.

 

 

His face flashed with what looked like realisation and then his voice softened. “To think… I was once madly in love with you.” He scoffed. “You’re rubbish, mate.” He looked at me sadly. “Go home, Harry. Go back to LA. I’ll have the lawyer post your cheque or something.” He pursed his lips and walked out of the washroom, leaving Harry alone.

 

 

Awkwardly enough, Harry was still at the urinal, fly down. After adjusting himself and heading back out to the pub, he returned to the table to find it deserted, two uneaten Shepherd’s Pies, an empty Stella, and Pippa’s unfinished wine staring back at him along with a £50 note.

 

 

Fuck them.

 

 

**

 

 

As Harry’s schedule had suddenly freed up, he made the decision to check out of the hotel early. Niall was right in one sense. There was no point in being there anymore. He headed to the rental car and began the once familiar journey from London to Holmes Chapel. The least he could do was spend a week with his mum, but he made sure to book a one way ticket back to Los Angeles for New Year’s Eve. With the time change, he could still land with plenty of time to spare until midnight. The list of people he could call there, who _wouldn’t_ abandon him in a bar, was endless. 

 

 

Mum was glad to see him, obviously, especially a day earlier than planned. Robin was pleased too. Gemma was indifferent. They’d sort of fallen out a bit around the time One Direction ended. Harry moved to America full time. Gemma got a job in the business side of Lou’s hair and makeup stuff until Lou had baby Rio and decided to take an indefinite hiatus from the globe trotting to focus on being a mom and girlfriend. Gem was a bit down then. Whole chapter in her life coming to a close and that. She’d asked Harry for a job, any kind of job, personal assistant even. Harry was running in new circles, though, and having his big sister permanently tagging along was no longer a good look. He sent her a couple thousand quid instead. She was so insulted, she didn’t speak to him for a month. Guess she did some more asking around and Niall got her a job at Capital. She didn’t work on his show, but she was a producer for their evening programme. She was happy enough with it. Met William, a music manager who had gone to the radio station in support of one his acts. They’d been dating two years now.

 

 

A little later that night, after his Mum and Robin had gone to bed, Gemma joined him on the sofa in the front room where he was watching telly.

 

 

“Why’d you show up tonight? Arriving after dinnertime is hardly a planned Christmas Eve surprise is it?” She asked him, sipping her tea.

 

 

Harry shrugged. “Wanted to beat the traffic.” 

 

 

Gemma stared at him. “Who’d you piss off today, then?” 

 

 

He furrowed my brows and rolled his eyes. “Did you know Niall used to be in love with me?” He blurted out instead.

 

 

She snorted. “Probably not as much as you loved him. But. I had a feeling,” she shrugged. Harry stared at her waiting for her to continue. “Well you were always close. And I definitely saw you two sneaking away more than once. And the first couple months I worked at Capital, he used to always try to offhandedly ask me about you and if you were doing all right and seeing anyone. Until I told him you were a git. He slowed down after that. And started shagging every soap actress in London.” Gemma shrugged again and Harry frowned, vaguely disgusted.

 

 

“I’m going to bed,” he muttered 

 

 

It was a fitful night. He tossed and turned, and when he finally managed to get some sleep, he had maybe the most realistically fucked up dream in recent memory… 

 

 

**

 

_Past._

 

_16_

 

_“It’ll be all right, darling. Some things just aren’t meant to be. You’re not worth any less than when you woke up this morning,” Mum said._

 

_Harry couldn’t stop crying. This was supposed to be it. This was supposed to be his out. His escape from the monotony of Holmes Chapel. Wake up. College. Work. Sleep. Day in, day out. And of course it wasn’t all bad. He had friends. He had fun. But he knew there was so much more out there for him. He was meant for so much more. He was beyond normal life. He felt it in his bones._

 

_The judges had said no. They picked several boys to advance to the judges houses, and Harry wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t even a top 5 contender. Those few were gathered up and put into a group together to go ahead as a unit. Niall Horan. Louis Tomlinson. Liam Payne. Zayn Malik. Ashton Hayes. Harry’d seen them around the past few days. They were going on as a unit. He was going home._

 

_“Come on, Harry. Let’s get some food, yeah? Ice cream, maybe. It’ll be fine. None of those boys will last. Some 30 year old will win and the rest of the kids your age will be in uni in a few years. You’re still a rockstar to us, anyway.” Gemma ruffled his hair. “And at least we all know you can sing better than I can.” She shrugged, kissed his cheek, and pulled a face to make him laugh and then they were off. Done with London for the foreseeable future. Done with singing forever. The embarrassment was too much. Having people at school know it didn’t work out was mortifying. He gave up the dream. It was over._

 

_Gem was wrong. Those five boys were the stars of X-Factor. They were attractive. Charismatic. Ashton Hayes was the media darling from the moment the shows began. And as a 17 year old was dating a 30 year old or something wild like that. He was all right. Niall, the Irish one, was Harry’s favourite. Seemed the most friendly and likable. And he knew how to play guitar so he seemed like the most authentic._

 

_Ever a masochist, Harry watched the show week after week. More than once he found himself pulling for Nazll, pronounced ‘nasal,’ which is honestly a terrible name for a boy band. He knew for a fact he could come up with something better than that. But their fans called themselves ‘Nazllettes’ and it was practically a movement._

 

_Harry couldn’t help but be relieved when they came 3rd place. He thought that’d be the end of them, despite what Zayn Malik insisted during the finale. Zayn was right. Harry was wrong. Again. Nazll steadily rose to fame at blinding speeds._

 

_18_

 

_Harry went to the University of Manchester. Wasn’t too far from home. He’d really wanted to go to uni in America. Los Angeles, maybe. USC or UCLA. Or New York. NYU. Something like that. Doubted he had to brains for it though. And if he’d managed the academics, he definitely lacked the money required to attend. Uni in the States was around £30,000 yearly. So he went to Manchester._

 

_Oddly enough, Harry’s first year of uni, he had a brush with Nazll and what could’ve been. Apparently Louis Tomlinson was dating a Manchester student. He came to visit her. It’d been two years since Harry’s failed X Factor attempt and Nazll was in their prime. He saw Louis at a party. They made eye contact. Or more, Harry looked at Louis and Louis looked through Harry. He didn’t remember him. Of course he didn’t. Louis had probably met thousands of people since then, including Hollywood stars. And Harry was here. Doing a business and sociology degree. With no idea what he wanted to do with his life. It was a low point._

 

_Harry dated three girls in uni. Two of them were in love with Nazll, which led him to two shows in downtown Manchester. Bopped his head along to What Makes You Beautiful and Little Things and hated himself a little bit because of it._

 

_22_

 

_After uni, Harry moved to Birmingham and got a job at a major bank. He hated it. But he made decent money. It was an hour from Holmes Chapel. He had a nice flat. And he met Hannah there. He’d traded one monotony for another. And he supposed it could’ve been much worse, but he knew, he just_ knew, _it could’ve been much better. Nazll broke up. But they were all rich as hell and still had the world at their feet._

 

 

_Present_

 

_27_

 

_Harry proposed to Hannah in April. She wasn’t Mrs. Right, but the timing was. They were the perfect age. They both had good jobs. They’d been dating for almost 3 years. It was just time. They were married in November. It was fun. And then it wasn’t. He was bored._

 

_29_

 

_Rebecca was born 2 September. She was amazing, and Harry loved her with everything he had, but he grew tired with his life. Fell out of love with Hannah, if he was ever really in love with her. They fought often. Becs cried._

 

_33_

 

_He uprooted his family for a new job. They headed to London so he could work for a business management firm. Had to travel a lot. America and Asia mostly. Never saw his family. He did feel awful about that. Missing Becs growing up, and all of little Ryan’s firsts. He was in Hong Kong when his son was born._

 

_Future_

 

_40_

 

_Harry transferred departments. Instead of working on corporate accounts, he switched to private management. Naturally, in the big joke of his life, he landed Niall Horan of Nazll as a client. Niall was worth millions of pounds. It was Harry’s job to help him invest it so it would multiply. Once Niall invited Harry and his business partner round for lunch. His walls were lined with various music awards and guitars and plaques. It was incredible. It was what Harry’s life should’ve been._

 

_He didn’t bother mentioning that they’d met 25 years prior._

 

_45_

 

_Hannah left him. He only got to see Ryan and Rebecca on weekends. She remarried and moved North. And then he only got to see them on holidays._

 

_50_

 

_Harry remarried. Because it was the right thing to do. Isabelle was 20 years his junior and lived off his money. She was less than a decade older than his daughter. Harry’s hair was thin. His eyes were dull. The highlight of his second marriage was that Niall Horan was at his wedding. In fact, they’d become decent mates. You have the trust the man in charge of your money, but Harry didn’t like to think of it that way._

 

_80._

 

_Isabelle eventually left Harry. Why wouldn’t she? She still had plenty of life ahead of her. He never remarried after that. He became an old man and any inheritance was for his kids. He lived in Spain in his retirement. His grandchildren visited him in summers. He always told them the story of the most exciting time of my life, when he’d tried out for X Factor. He made sure to follow it up by encouraging them to live out their dreams, and not be like him who gave his up at age 16 and never fully got over it. He’d settled and begged they’d never do the same._

**

 

 

It was Christmas morning. Harry swung his legs out of bed and planted them on the floor as he tried to maintain his breathing. The dream the night before had been so incredibly vivid. His life without One Direction. Broken. Miserable. A fraction of what it was now.

 

 

He was an asshole. He’d been one in the dream, ignoring his family, and he was one currently, especially toward people who definitely didn’t deserve it. Even in the dream, Gemma was there for him. He hadn’t made it through to X Factor but she picked him up, dusted him off, and they carried on.

 

 

Niall. 

 

 

Niall was meant to be in his life, regardless. Fame or not. _He_ was the one born for the limelight. Not Harry. But they were fated to be important to each other, regardless of the universe.

 

 

And Harry had almost certainly lost him for real this time.

 

 

It was early, too early for anyone to be awake. Only about half 6. The only people up were overeager kids desperate to see what Santa left them. Harry crept to Gemma’s room and poked his head in tentatively.

 

 

“Gem,” he whispered harshly, followed by a knock on the door. “Gemma. Wake up.” 

 

 

She groaned and rolled over, squinting at the door and feeling around on her night stand for her glasses. 

 

 

“Harry?” she muttered, voice sleep laden. “What are you doing?”

 

 

Harry walked into the room and sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry for being a prat, Gem. _So_ so sorry,” He said to her as honestly as he could. “For sending you money instead of genuinely helping you. For being a shit brother for the past four years. For not knowing anything about your life apart from what Mum tells me and what you put on the Internet. I haven’t even met William for fuck sake. You’ve been together for ages.” He ran a hand over my face. “I’ve made a mess of things.”

 

 

Harry looked at his big sister and saw her eyes shining with tears. “Come here you big goofy.” She pulled him down into a bone crushing hug. “I love you, you miserable sod. And I’ve missed you.” He hugged her back and grinned. “Glad you’re back, H,” she said softly. “Your nephew’s gonna need a fun uncle!”

 

 

Harry almost cried instantly. Gemma was pregnant. Harry’d just learned he was going to be an uncle.After telling her that she couldn’t name his nephew Ashton, Harry couldn’t stop beaming.

 

 

It was the best Christmas he’d had in years. Instead of being so in his head like he’d been in previous years, he was present. He laughed when his mum told the same stories she'd been telling forever. He took silly selfies with Gemma and posted them to social media. He teased her about William and whether or not he should expect a wedding in the new year. Gifts were exchanged and he felt like shit for his. He'd gotten his mum a bracelet and Robin a watch. Those were mostly fine although if he's honest, very little thought went into them. He bought Gemma a cardigan. And he felt awful for it. But what did you get your sister whom you barely spoke to and never saw? It was a dick gift and he'd known it at the time, superior only to a bloody gift card or voucher. She smiled warmly at him, but he knew he could do better. She deserved better. This was his family. And if that jarring dream had taught Harry anything, it was that these people were there for him no matter what. Even when he was being an insufferable twat. It was just them.

 

 

And Niall.

 

 

Niall deserved more than an apology. And he'd deserved it much sooner than the morning after a startling dream/nightmare. But better late than never.

 

 

**

 

 

Harry was outside Niall’s house at 08.00 on Boxing Day. It was only once he'd buzzed the gate that he realised he probably should've waited until a more decent hour, and that it'd been 4 years since he'd been here. Niall easily could've moved house.

 

 

The damage was done. He'd left Holmes Chapel obscenely early, awake with nerves to psych myself up for this. So he just crossed his fingers and hoped that Niall still lived here. 

 

 

He was about to give up and head back to either the hotel or Cheshire when a female voice came through the speaker. "'Ello?”

 

 

His eyebrows furrowed. Maybe Niall really did move to another part of the city. "Um. Sorry. Think I've got the wrong address." He cleared his throat. "Happy Christmas," he finished lamely, turning to leave.

 

 

"Harry? It's Pippa. Are you here for Niall? Let me buzz you in!"

 

 

Harry’s stomach flipped and he was about to protest when the gate began to open. Taking a deep breath, he walked up Niall’s front drive and made his way to the door where he was greeted by one of apparently many soap stars who’d shagged Niall… and apparently lived with him as well.

 

 

“Morning!” Pippa chirped. “Happy Christmas,” she pecked his cheek. “Sorry we left the _Auld_ so quickly the other night. Niall was feeling poorly. Dropped me off and spent the entire night in bed, bless him.” She frowned. “Wouldn’t even let me pop round to give him his prezzies. ‘s why I’m here so early. Trying to sneak in and out. Surprise him with a bit of holiday cheer, yeah? ‘spose that’s why you’re here too, innit?” 

 

 

Harry nodded, more than slightly confused and let Pippa lead him inside. Niall’s house was just as he remembered. Same plants in the front room. One Direction awards on the shelves. Massive television on the wall. Magazines spread on the coffee table. The guitars that seemed ever present in the corner had been moved to make space for a Christmas tree. The picture of he and Harry golfing in Australia back in, what, 2013 maybe, that used to be on the end table next to the sofa had been replaced. Instead, a different throwback, a photo of he and Zayn in Vegas from Niall’s 21st birthday stared back at Harry. He frowned, although he knew he had no right to be offended.

 

 

“Right. Well, I’m off. Wicked sales at Selfridges and Topshop today. I’m awful!” She grinned. “Give Niley my love!” Harry nodded once, too nervous to worry about that stupid fucking nickname and the fact that this girl had broken in (had a key?) to Niall’s house to secretly leave gifts like some kind of rogue Santa Claus.

 

 

Hoe. Hoe. Hoe.

 

 

Harry made his way to Niall’s bedroom, a path he’d traveled countless times before. He tentatively knocked on the door. “Who da fuck is that?” He heard a muffled response. “Mam?” He stuck his head in.

 

 

“A bit taller and less angelic, I’m afraid,” Harry smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I know it’s early. But. I dunno…” he trailed off. “Wanted to see you.”

 

 

Niall sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes harshly. “Harry? What the _fuck_? What ya doin ‘ere?” And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss how thick Niall’s accent was in the mornings. That was a regular sound for him, ages 16-23. Early mornings on tour or during promo. After sleepovers… 

 

 

“Happy Christmas,” Harry shrugged. “Got you a gift. It isn’t here yet. Um. I only ordered it last night. But. I’ve got the confirmation email. It’ll be here in a few weeks.” Niall just stared at him. “Uh. It’s a guitar. A 1960 Gibson Les Paul. Sunburst. Six string.” Harry coughed. “I’m sure you probably have one. And I know you prefer Fenders. But. More the merrier, yeah?”

 

 

Niall kept staring. “What’s going on?” 

 

 

“You were wrong,” He said suddenly. “Without One Direction I wouldn’t be doing a law degree. It’d be business and sociology.”

 

 

Niall blinked. “What? Ok?”

 

 

“I’m a twat,” Harry blurted, stepping further into the room. “And I know that. And I know _you_ know that. We know that. The boys know it. Everyone knows it.” He shrugged. “But I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry Niall. I-” His shoulders sagged in defeat. “I was clearly talking shit the other day when I said I wished I’d never been part of One Direction. Dunno what I was thinking. This was the best thing to happen to me.” He gestured at the Brit Awards on the shelf above the telly in the room. “It brought me…everything. Opportunity. And stability. And adventure.” Harry couldn’t help but grin thinking back on those years. “And you. It brought me you.” 

 

 

Niall opened his mouth, but said nothing.

 

 

“You’re someone who’s meant to be in my life,” he continued. “I know that now and I should’ve seen it sooner. You were always the glue keeping this band together. Everyone said it. You were all our favourite… maybe mine a bit more, but…” Harry trailed off, feeling my cheeks flush. “I know things won’t go back to normal right away. Years have passed and I’ve said terrible things and in no way do I deserve a second chance. But I want one, Niall. I never stopped thinking about you. Almost had a bloody heart attack when you dyed your hair dark. And. I listen to _Irish Breakfast_ whenever I’m frustrated and need a laugh. And I hate those blue trainers you wore to the _Lussuria London_ opening. And I hated even more when you left with those girls. And I hate that Pippa Roy let me into your bloody house this morning.” Harry frowned. “And Niley is a stupid pet name.” Harry shrugged. “I just want you in my life again, Niall. It’s the natural order of things. Mates,” he cleared my throat. “Maybe more one day? You said you loved me once…”

 

 

 

**

 

 

 

 

“£3 million richer boys, can you believe it?” Louis threw his head back with a laugh, cheeks flushed with drink. What a way to ring in the new fucking year!”

 

 

They were gathered in a booth at _Lussuria Dubai,_ quite a spontaneous trip, but one that seemed worth taking. Liam obviously hadto be there. Lottie Malone had asked Zayn to get more serious and look into a future together. Obviously, he’d panicked, and we’re almost positive that seeing Perrie Edwards the week before had something to do with it. Either way, he said a lads holiday would be a good way to clear his head for a moment before going back to adulthood. Louis persuaded Eleanor to leave the twins with her mum. She and Sophia had spent the day at the spa or something and were now chatting in a corner, keeping an eye on their husbands for when midnight struck. Niall had holiday from the radio station, and wanted to lay low before announcing his _X Factor_ residency the following week. And Harry? He changed his ticket. 

 

 

He imagined the press might have shit themselves after seeing the fivesome again. Being papped outside a few meetings was one thing, walking the red carpet outside of a foreign nightclub opening as a unit, coordinating outfits and all? Well. The mid-2010s seemed to be making a comeback.

 

 

“Can’t believe you boys made it over here for this,” Liam beamed. “Bout time we were all in a _Lussuria_ together. Who better to make me money?” He winked and they laughed. “ _Especially_ Mr. Styles here, gracing us with his presence even though he--and I quote--‘isn’t into the club scene.’”

 

 

Louis and Zayn both rolled their eyes with a smile. Liam kept laughing, and Niall elbowed Harry in the ribs lightly, grinning at him as they exchanged a glance. He’d forgiven the younger lad. Or at least, he was willing to work on it, and Harry couldn’t have been happier. 

 

 

“When are you off to the States, Styles?” Louis asked and Harry shrugged.

 

 

“Spending some time in London for now. Gemma’s pregnant. I wanna be hear for all that and my new nephew. Probably set up a new base for a while. Work on some things.” Harry smiled slyly and Niall flushed.

 

 

“Lads. Can you imagine our lives without all of this? Without One Direction?” Zayn mused, forever the Bradford brooder?

 

 

Harry nodded. “Yes. And it’s absolute rubbish,” he said. “I’m 1D as fuck.”

 

 

Louis spit out his drink in laughter and everyone dissolved into hysterics. Harry wasn’t sure how he’d managed to try to push this out of his life for so long, but he was _so_ glad it was back. 

 

 

And at midnight, while Louis was giving Eleanor a chaste kiss, and Liam was giving Sophia his puppy dog eyes, and Zayn was on the phone in the corner, grinning happily, Niall grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed once. They stumbled out of the club, drunk off Payno’s free spirits and their own elation and made their way back to the hotel. Harry followed Niall to his room and as soon as they were inside, he kissed him up against the door and all they could do was sigh.

 

 

Harry was happier than he’d been in ages, content with everything around him. 

 

 

“You know I’m only like £2.6 million richer right?” Harry murmured against Niall’s lips and he laughed.

 

 

“Hm?”

 

 

“That fucking guitar,” he snorted, catching Niall’s lips again. “Expensive.”

 

 

Niall pulled away to laugh. “Pricey gifts. Lavish Dubai vacations? Jesus Harry, I’m not for sale.”  

 

 

Harry grinned. “Could return it. And we could go home tomorrow.”

 

 

Niall smiled softly. “Nah. You owe me for years of being a scrooge.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Now that we're all revealed, come say hey at nylonla.tumblr.com :)


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